


VR1SK4 S3RK3T 1S 4L1V3 4ND W3 P41L3D 1N JOHNS B4S3M3NT

by romashka



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Quadrant Confusion, Quadrant Vacillation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 19:47:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10600968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romashka/pseuds/romashka
Summary: Sometimes you need your long-lost, presumed-dead best friend-slash-girlfriend to help you get out of a bad place.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Good lord, how even does effective pacing work. Also this is the first time I have ever written sex of any kind (it's really brief and kind of vague, but it is there).

It was with a heavy heart that Terezi had finally stopped searching for Vriska. Her friends had been pleading with her for so long, fearing for her safety, and her sanity. She had always persisted, because her sanity was in tatters anyway, because some part of her always whispered, _it will be tomorrow_ , even long after she had any concept of day or night. She was tireless, until eventually she was tired. _No more._  
  
In a strange development, when she returned to Earth C, she moved in with John. Despite their previous burgeoning kismesissitude, neither of them had the energy to hate each other. They were both in a bad place, and somehow it helped to be in the same bad place and to have someone else with whom to shun everyone. Their sleep schedules were so fucked that it was usually Terezi who was awake during the day, and John at night.  
  
Terezi stared into the sun. The light of it smelled so sharp and piercing and awful, even if not as much as the Alternian sun, and the longer her head was turned towards it the more convinced she became that she could see it through her burnt-out eyes. It was an exercise in probably equal parts nostalgia and masochism.  
  
She began to see other things. Her mind filled in all the gaps and she saw every blade of grass in front of her and she turned away and she saw the brickwork on John’s house and everything was so distinct and it was just horrible. She knew it wasn’t real, she knew her real actual eyes hadn’t failed her by working again, but she wanted it to stop. There was more now. She saw a single Faygo bottle in front of her. Put her hand through it. She saw her old hive in the distance. She wasn’t going to run. She saw Karkat, much younger than he was now, just standing motionless in front of her. She smelled Vriska.  
  
She smelled Vriska and it was real. She ran now. Vriska, Vriska was there, here, underground. Away from the sun. She was a singular thought, though one that left room in the back of Terezi’s mind for the realisation that she must have planned it this way, so that Terezi would have to find her for a dramatic reunion. It was so typical of her.  
  
Terezi opened the door and tumbled down the basement stairs.  
  
Vriska was there to catch her. They both tried to pick a coherent sentence from the maelstrom of emotion and searing questions and ultimately failed in all but the instinctive desire to pull each other very, very close. Terezi licked a weak blue tear from Vriska’s face and it was so familiar, and she tensed for a moment, the flavour reminding her of her blood.  
  
There was no one around who expected her to act a certain way.  
  
She breathed and cried, and held Vriska once again.  
  
“How long have you even…been down here?”  
  
Vriska produced her best comically brooding deep vampiric voice. “A while.” She cleared her throat. “No, I just got here, and a likely place to find you was always gonna be somewhere near Cute Protagonist.” Vriska tilted Terezi’s head upwards. “Also, I think this is a situation where sloppy makeouts should probably precede discussion.”  
  
Terezi laughed in the particular way that someone laughs while they’re crying. At the ridiculousness of it all, at the crassness of what she had just said, at the sheer joy of hearing Vriska’s electric blue voice again, and her stupid accent where she could hear the 8 shoved into the word ‘makeouts’. There was a wisp of confusion over their supposed status as moirails, and Vriska’s supposed inability to deal with concupiscent quadrants – but she supposed that was just one of the many things they would have to discuss, eventually.  
  
She and Vriska both surprised themselves by intuiting that the best place to do whatever they were about to do would be in John’s basement, but there they were. Brought together across paradox space, on something that was definitely a mattress.  
  
It was cool and dark and Terezi had Vriska pinned down, as if she was afraid she’d disappear again. They pressed against one another, willing away the space between them. They kissed, deeply; finding themselves unsatisfied, they still sought more closeness and more connection, more. Red, pale, black. Red, pale, black, blurring together.  
  
Vriska was touching her. And she knew her, knew just how to do it. Thought was driven from Terezi's head, her cool blood running unbearably warm. She ground against Vriska as hard as she could. Vriska drew a ragged breath as they twined together, and Terezi clasped her hand. Their movement was fast, unable to wait long. Soon, with stifled cries almost in unison, they were done, and they collapsed together.  
  
There was quite a mess.  
  
“Ugh, leave it, it’s okay,” said Vriska. She stretched out, her messy hair spreading out where there should have been a pillow. Terezi lay down facing her – not to sleep, as a human would, but because it was the only right place to be.  
  
There was time for everything.

**Author's Note:**

> This whole thing seems way shorter than it should be, I need to work on expanding my ideas more so they can span chapters and feel less rushed. But I figured people might like it anyway


End file.
